


sepulcralis

by JackEPeace



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Halloween!, I just love scary movies okay, Jeepers Creepers - Freeform, high school AU because technically yes, horror movie AUs, horror movie imagery and language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 18:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16454873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: “Okay.” Trip gets to his feet. “What else do you know about this thing? How do we kill it?”Raina shakes her head. “You don’t,” she says. “But if we can last until sunrise then it’ll…go into hibernation or something. It does that, every twenty-three years.”“So this thing only wakes up every twenty-three years and we happen to be right here when it does?” Mack shakes his head. “Lucky us.”-A Jeepers Creepers AU-





	sepulcralis

**Author's Note:**

> I had way too much fun writing this.

“The energy around this place is wrong…I don’t like it.”

“Shut up, Raina.” Daisy manages to mutter the words through a mouthful of granola bar, rolling her eyes at the girl in question. “Touching a deck of tarot cards one time doesn’t make you clairvoyant, you know.”

Raina cuts her eyes at Daisy, her face screwing up into a scowl. Jemma watches the two of them glaring at each other, too weary and unimpressed to referee the situation.

Rather than fire back at Daisy, Raina just huffs, turning on her heel and marching back toward the open door of the school bus, her cheerleading skirt swishing angrily behind her. All the windows on the bus are open, though Jemma can’t imagine that the bus is anything but an oven, steadily roasting the inhabitants in the midday sun.

Though most people are doing exactly what she and Daisy are doing: sitting outside on the hardpacked, dusty ground, or exploring the area around the side of the road where the bus has been stranded for the past hour.

“Are you ever going to be nice to Raina?” Jemma already knows the answer to her question, but that doesn’t stop her from asking, looking over at Daisy and shading her eyes against the sun.

There’s not a cloud in the sky right now. Nothing but blue sky and the rippling gold of crops and dying grass. But still, Jemma feels a tightness in her chest, an anxiety that feels like it has little to do with the stranded bus.

Daisy makes a face. “No.” She finishes her granola bar, folding up the wrapper and sticking it into the pocket of her shorts. She’s still wearing her cheerleader’s top, though the skirt has been traded out for fraying shorts. Either way, Jemma appreciates the view of Daisy’s toned legs. “Why should I?”

“Because we’re broken down on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere and no one’s cell phones work.”

Daisy lifts her eyebrows. “Me being nice to Raina isn’t going to change that,” she points out.

Daisy is close enough to lean against so that’s exactly what Jemma does, resting her head against Daisy’s shoulder, pressing close to her despite the heat. Not that Daisy seems to mind, her arm slipping around Jemma’s waist. “They’ll get it all figured out,” Daisy assures her.

“I know.” Jemma scrunches up her face, watching as Coulson and May and Hill continue to walk around the bus, looking as hot and frustrated as everyone else feels. As the team’s manager, Jemma feels like she should be more involved in what’s going on, even though her duties mostly involve making sure all the players have their helmets and enough water. Right now, it seems easier to lean against Daisy and watch someone else try to get them out of this mess.

Only Mack and Fitz seem to be taking any active interest in figuring out how to get the bus up and running again. Fitz has been studying the engine while Mack makes his own rounds, studying the outside of the bus closely with a frown on his face. Everyone else on the team and the cheerleading squad has spread out or hunkered down inside the bus, complaining of heat or boredom or throwing rocks and sticks at one another. Hunter and Lincoln are actually climbing one of the trees on the edge of the poor farmer’s property that they’re stuck on and are trying to push each other off the branches.

“At least this is an adventure,” Daisy points out, though her tone sounds just as bored and listless as Jemma feels. “A better story than having to tell everyone that we lost the championship game.”

Jemma peers up at her. “We’ll probably _still_ have to tell everyone that.”

“Maybe.” Daisy shrugs. “But people will probably be more interested in this stranded-by-the-side-of-the-road story.”

Jemma opens her mouth to debate this possibility when a shadow suddenly falls across the two of them. She frowns, looking up at the sky. It’s just as cloudless and blue has it had been moments before.

“Did you…?” Look of confusion on Daisy’s face answers Jemma’s question before she can finish it.

The murmurs spreading through her classmates only further convinces Jemma that there was something up there after all. Everyone seems equally confused, looking toward the sky, frowning.

“There was definitely something there.” Elena is pointing toward the sky. “Something big.”

Daisy gets to her feet, helping Jemma stand as well, though neither of them rush to untangle their hands. Everyone is focused on the sky, though there’s nothing to see except the blaring sun and what looks like a small, dark dot, far off in the distance.

A bird, maybe.

“Coaches!” Mack’s voice pulls everyone’s attention away from the sky. “Come look at this!”

Everyone moves in unison to where Mack is standing, not just Coulson, May and Hill. Mack is pointing to something lodged in the tire, something everyone managed to miss until now. Something long, slender and sharp. Something that has punctured the tire and left it unsalvageable.

“I think this happened on purpose,” Mack says.

“Told you so.” Jemma looks up to see Raina looking down at them from one of the bus’s windows, looking entirely too smug.

Daisy scowls at her, which only seems to make Raina all the more pleased.

Coulson frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know this looks bad,” he says, “but who would-”

His words are lost in a sudden explosion of sound as a dozen crows, who had been occupying one of the other trees on the property, take flight suddenly, cawing and screeching loudly. Left in the tree is something…else.

Something vaguely human. But not human at all.

Something with gangly, disjointed limbs and parts, like everything has been stitched together from mismatched pieces. And…wings.

Jemma draws in a breath, stepping backward into Daisy, who squeezes her hand protectively.

“What the hell is that thing?”

Jemma thinks it doesn’t really matter who actually voiced the question out loud, because she’s certain all of them are thinking it.

The thing in the tree just sits, watching them. Studying them. She can’t see the eyes, not really, just glossy patches of darkness where she assumes the eyes should be. Nothing moves, not even the wind.

“Everyone should get back on the bus,” May says quietly, her voice even and calm.

The thing stands suddenly, somehow balanced on the branch, and its wings snap open, large and wide and bat-like.

After all, everything seems to happen at once. There’s a mad dash back toward the door of the bus, everyone pushing and shoving in an effort to get through the doors first. Jemma is jostled backward, her hand slipping free from Daisy’s.

The thing takes off, flapping its giant wings, making a beeline straight for the bus, human-like, clawed hands reaching.

Ward shoves Bobbi out of the way, hurrying up the bus steps and slamming the doors shut before the rest of them can get on. Bobbi slams her palm against the glass, pounding. “Open the door, you idiot!”

“That thing is out there!” Ward shouts and the bus rocks at the creature flies overhead, wings beating. “We can’t take any chances!”

Bobbi bangs on the door and Mack rattles the door knob but Ward doesn’t budge, holding it in place. Jemma steps backward, looking overhead, watching as the creature turns backward, heading toward the bus once more and the half dozen of them still stuck outside. It’s flying lower now and she can see the empty blackness of its eyes, the lurid grin of its mouth.

“Hurry up!” Jemma steps closer toward Mack and the others, like that might somehow protect them. “It’s coming!”

Daisy appears in the doorway, shoving Ward backward and away from the door. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She snarls and Trip grabs Ward, holding him back so he can’t return to hold the door closed.

“Hurry!” Daisy throws the door open, stepping out of the way as Bobbi and Mack rush onto the bus.

Daisy holds out her hand and Jemma reaches for her, grabbing her fingers just as Jemma feels something grab her from behind, yanking her backward. Her feet leave the ground and Jemma tugs Daisy off the bus with her, though she has enough sense to let go of Daisy’s hand so that Daisy isn’t ensnared too.

The thing smells like death. Like dozens and dozens of corpses left out in the sun, abandoned to rot. Jemma can feel the things hands on her, long, slender fingers pinching her sides as it holds her close. But she can’t bring herself to turn her head, can’t bring herself to look at the thing holding her.

Instead, Jemma just looks at Daisy, sprawled there in the dirt. Daisy’s expression is one of rage and fear, her eyes wide, mouth parted like she wants to speak or scream but can’t do either of those things.

One of the spindly, hard hands moves from her side and up her face and Jemma shudders, closing her eyes as the fingers tangle in her hair. And the thing pulls her close, burying its face -or what passes as a face- into the crook of her neck and it sniffs, long and deep. Jemma whimpers, keeping her eyes squeezed shut tightly, her entire body shaking as the thing continues to smell her, sniffing with its nose pressed to her skin.

The creature snuffs, shaking its head, seeming almost disappointed. It shoves Jemma back to the ground, beating its wings as it takes flight again, heading back toward the bus.

Jemma isn’t entirely sure that she’s breathing, isn’t sure of anything at the moment. Even the dirt beneath her feels fake and unsteady, like she’s just imagining herself here instead of still in the creature’s arms.

But then someone is shouting her name and Daisy is there beside her and when she feels Daisy’s hands on her shoulders, Jemma jumps, and everything rushes back in sudden, sharp clarity.

The creature is perched on the top of the bus and there’s the squeal of metal over the sound of screaming but Jemma can’t really focus on that, can’t concrete on that and Daisy and the shudders still racking her body, so she picks one and lifts her head to stare at Daisy. There are tears in Daisy’s eyes and Jemma falls into her arms, holding onto her tight enough to hurt. Not that either of them seem to care.

“Are you okay?” Daisy is asking her and Jemma is pretty sure she’s asked this question a half dozen times already. “Jemma, are you okay?”

Jemma nods, pressing her hand to the side of her neck where the creature smelled her. There’s nothing there, not even a scratch, but she can still feel the thing’s hot, stale breath against her skin. Her hands are still shaking, so she holds onto Daisy instead.

Daisy is staring at the bus again and Jemma feels like she can no longer deny its existence. Can no longer deny that any of this is happening.

The top of the bus has been torn open like a tuna can, the metal’s edges jagged and sharp and peeled back effortlessly. The bus is rocking and Jemma can make out the shouts and screams of some of her classmates and a part of her brain is saying _help them!_ while another part of her brain is yelling _hide!_

The creature climbs back through the roof and Daisy pulls Jemma closer against her. As the thing stands the roof once more, they can see that there’s someone being held in one clawed hand.

Coulson.

The creature doesn’t even look in their direction, beating its wings and taking off again. Taking Coulson with it.

“What do we do?” Daisy whispers as they watch the creature and Coulson disappear into the brilliant blue sky.

It’s almost hard to believe that, throughout all of this, the sun has been shining cheerfully.

Jemma only shakes her head, swallowing. She’s not sure she can say out loud what they both know: that there’s nothing they can do.

Instead, Jemma lets Daisy pull her back toward the bus, where the doors are still hanging open. The bus is silent aside from the sounds of Kara sniffling and wiping at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

When Jemma and Daisy step onto the bus, every single pair of eyes settles on them and expressions of surprise momentarily replace looks of fear and terror. Bobbi exhales, slumping back into one of the bus seats. “We thought you guys were dead too.”

“It didn’t want them.”

Raina is still sitting in the back of the bus, looking oddly calm compared to everything that’s been going on. She looks at Jemma and raises an eyebrow. “Right?”

Jemma frowns. “What do you mean?”

But she knows. The smelling. The way the thing had thrown her back into the dirt, disappointed.

Raina stands up. “It’s not over. It’s after us now.”

Daisy is still scowling at her, like everything that comes out of Raina’s mouth is somehow a personal insult. “How do you know?”

“It took Coulson,” Fitz points out. “I think that says a lot.”

“Enough.” Hill’s sharp and commanding voice is enough to put a stop to any conversation that might follow. “I don’t know what’s happening here but we can’t just hang around to see what happens next. There’s got to be a farmhouse around here somewhere. This is all farmland,” she gestures to the fields around them, “so we just have to find the farmer. Use their phone, call for help.”

May nods her agreement. “We’ll get this taken care of. None of you are allowed to leave this bus. Period.”

Kara sits up, eyes wide. “Wait…you’re leaving us?”

“This is the safest place for you to be, right now,” May says. “We can’t have all of you traipsing around the fields with that thing out there.”

No one seems eager to point out the massive hole in the top of the bus that anything could just climb right through.

Hill grabs a bag out from beneath the driver’s seat and drops it into Daisy’s arms. “This has flashlights and flares. Just in case.”

Daisy grimaces as she looks at the bag. “Great. If that thing comes back, we’ll just shine a bunch of lights in its eyes.”

“We’ll be back before dark,” May says firmly, pausing by the stairs. “Do not leave this bus. I _will_ know.”

It seems to be enough of a threat to keep them all firmly in place as May and Hill leave the bus, instructing Daisy to shut the doors behind them. Everyone moves to the left side of the bus, peering out the windows and watching the two coaches until they both disappear out of sight.

“So we just…sit here?” Elena muses as they all start to gravitate away from the windows.

“Yeah, fuck that.” Ward gets to his feet, heading down the aisle toward the doors. “I’m not just going to wait around for that thing to come back.”

Ward stops in front of Jemma and Daisy, who are still blocking the exit. “May said to stay on the bus,” Jemma points out.

“Are you going to stop me?” Ward questions.

Daisy and Jemma glance at one another before moving out of the way and Daisy gestures toward the door. “Be my guest.”

Ward shakes his head, pushing open the doors and stepping off the bus. He comes back moments later, glaring. “Are you going to make me go alone?” He’s looking at Werner and Kara, who both hesitate before getting reluctantly to their feet. “Anyone else?”

Unsurprisingly, no one else takes Ward up on his offer.

“I’m going to get help,” Ward tells them. “Then you’ll all be thanking me. It’s what a real team captain would do.” He looks pointedly at Trip, who was chosen to be captain over Ward at the beginning of the season. Something Ward has yet to accept and forget about.

But Trip doesn’t rise to take the bait. He just shrugs, staying in his seat beside Bobbi.

When Ward and his reluctant posse leave the bus once more, Jemma leans forward and pulls the lever to snap the doors shut. “Not that it’ll help much with the giant hole in the ceiling,” she mumbles. “But it does make me feel better.”

She seats in one of the front seats beside Daisy and the bus is silent. One by one, they start pushing closed the windows on the bus, though it’s still stifling inside. The only breeze is what comes through the tear in the roof.

And they wait.

 

* * *

 

Jemma wakes up suddenly, feeling sweaty and groggy, her mind heavy with confusion. Her head aches and her hair sticks to the back of her neck and when she lifts her head, her cheek is numb and her muscles are stiff. Jemma blinks, trying to clear some of the fuzz from her head. Beside her, Daisy is still asleep, her fingers closed loosely around the straps of the bag on her lap.

That’s when Jemma remembers. The bus. The busted tire. The creature that took Coulson.

She almost can’t believe she fell asleep.

Jemma sits up straighter, looking around. The sun has mostly set, bathing everything in its strange, liminal pre-evening glow. The bus is quiet and she sees that she and Daisy aren’t the only ones who just drifted off to sleep, thanks to the heat and the fact that nothing else has been happening.

Only a few people are awake: Trip, sitting in the driver’s seat, the mouthpiece of the bus’s radio in his hand; Raina, sitting in the back and staring up at the hole in the roof; Mack, staring at his phone like he expects it to suddenly get a signal.

“Is anyone back yet?” Jemma asks, her voice scratchy from disuse.

Daisy jumps awake, though Jemma had thought that she had whispered the question. Daisy looks equally as confused as Jemma just felt, pushing her sweaty hair away from her face and glancing around. When Daisy remembers where she is, she sighs, burying her face in her hands.

“No,” Trip says, answering Jemma’s question. “No one is back yet. And I haven’t been able to reach anyone on the radio.”

“Not even Ward?” Daisy asks, peering out the window beside Jemma. “Maybe he actually managed to find someone.”

“And then forgot about the rest of us and kept on?” Mack mumbles. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Almost as though in response to Daisy’s comment, something comes dropping through the hole in the roof.

They all stare at the unmoving lump, unwilling to consider what it might be. Slowly, almost robotically, Daisy slides out of the seat, moving down the aisle to the thing lying there. She reaches for it and Jemma’s breath catches in her throat.

“It’s Ward’s jacket,” Daisy says quietly. “Or Werner’s. I guess it doesn’t matter.”

She holds the jacket up and there’s enough light left for Jemma to see the crimson stain darkening the golden fabric.

Daisy looks up, peering through the hole in the roof.

The creature’s head appears, seeming to smile as it stares back at her. Daisy gasps, dropping the jacket and taking a step back, falling into the seat where Hunter is still asleep.

Hunter startles awake, annoyed. “What the-” Then he sees Daisy and the face of the creature there above them and scrambles to his feet, knocking his elbows against the window. “Jesus Christ!”

His voice is enough to wake everyone else and the creature seems pleased by the shouts of fear and surprise.

It takes Jemma a second to realize that she recognizes the eyes peering down at them.

They look a lot like Ward’s.

The creature ducks backward, disappearing from view once again. They can hear the sound of its body scrapping across the top of the bus and then the telltale sounds of the wings churning through the air.

“We can’t stay here anymore,” Jemma whispers, putting her hands on Daisy’s shoulders, reassuring herself. “We can’t just wait.”

“And we’re supposed to go…where?” Lincoln asks, pointing toward the window. “Out there with that thing?”

“It already knows we’re in here,” Bobbi points out. “It’s not like we’re safe in here either.”

“We can try and find the farmhouse that May and Hill went looking for,” Daisy suggests. “If we all go together…safety in numbers, right?”

Hunter scoffs. “More like it can’t catch us all,” he grumbles.

Daisy picks up the bag, unzipping it and digging through the contents. She hands a flashlight and two flares to Jemma before passing the bag toward Trip. “We can all take some of this stuff and make a break for it,” she says. “Otherwise we’re just sitting here waiting for it to come back.”

Lincoln shakes his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea. That thing can fly. It can just…” He waves a hand. “Pick us off.”

“You don’t have to come,” Daisy points out, not unkindly. “But I’m going to go crazy here.”

Mack pockets his phone. “We might get better service somewhere else.”

“Why haven’t Hill and May come back?” Fitz questions, his eyes wide and fearful. “Maybe we _should_ stay. If they couldn’t get help then what chance do we have?”

“It doesn’t matter whether we stay or go,” Raina says and everyone turns to look at her. “It already knows the ones that it wants and it’ll get them.”

“What are you talking about?” Hunter sounds as irritated as everyone else looks. “You’ve been sounding like a psychic hotline all day, which is pretty ridiculous considering you were a cheerleader seven hours ago.”

Raina ignores him, her eyes settling on Jemma. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Now all heads turn in her direction, like some sort of ridiculous tennis match. Jemma hesitates, briefing considering ignoring Raina’s comment and just hiding herself under one of the bus seats and refusing to move again. But then she sighs. “Yeah,” Jemma says quietly. “It was…it…it smelled me. And it didn’t like how I smelled, I guess.”

“It didn’t smell any of us,” Elena points out. “So how does it-”

“It knows,” Raina says. “Trust me, it knows.”

Daisy is just staring at Raina. “And how do you know?” There’s no animosity in her voice now, just a quiet, resigned curiosity.

Raina gives her a crooked smile. “The tarot cards,” she says dryly.

“Okay.” Trip gets to his feet, abandoning his efforts to reach someone on the radio. “What else do you know about this thing? How do we kill it?”

Raina shakes her head. “You don’t,” she says. “But if we can last until sunrise then it’ll…go into hibernation or something. It does that, every twenty-three years.”

“So this thing only wakes up every twenty-three years and we happen to be right here when it does?” Mack shakes his head. “Lucky us.”

Daisy sticks one of the flares in her pocket, tightening her grip on the flashlight. “I’m going to try and find the farmhouse or at least find May and Hill,” she says and even though her posture is straight and her chin is lifted, Jemma can hear the way her voice quivers. “I can’t stay here. I have to try.”

There are a few murmurs of agreement on the bus, though a few people, like Lincoln and Raina, don’t make a move to get to their feet. Jemma is the first one to follow Daisy off the bus, which she feels goes without saying. Jemma has long suspected that she would follow Daisy anywhere, though she’d never thought that belief would be proven in this particular situation.

Trip, Mack, Fitz, Bobbi and Hunter file off the bus as well and, after a minute, Elena joins them. Lincoln has taken Trip’s place in the driver’s seat and gives them a hopeful nod before pulling the bus doors closed once more.

Jemma looks up, peering through the growing darkness to look for the creature. She doesn’t see anything, doesn’t hear the sound of the wings. But she feels like that doesn’t really mean anything. She has a feeling that the thing is watching them right now and the feeling of its eyes makes her shudder.

“Okay, what now?” Hunter looks at Daisy. “Where do we go?”

Daisy switches on the flashlight, looking uncertain and small now that they’re off the bus. “We go in the direction May and Hill went,” she says. “And we stick together.”

That part of the plan falls apart pretty soon after they get started walking through the fields, in the direction of what they hope is a farmhouse.

The sound of the wings is their first clue, their first hint to run. The creature is there, overhead, moving toward them with a surprising quickness, wings nearly blocking out the moon that has taken its place in the sky.

There’s no plan, no discussion about sticking together and safety in numbers. They just start running, fanning out, scattering across the field that offers no type of protection, no place to hide.

Daisy grabs her hand and Jemma holds on tightly, running as fast as she can, her legs already burning from the sudden activity and the burst of adrenaline flooding through her body. Trip is on Daisy’s other side and even though Jemma has the feeling that he could easily outpace both of them, he doesn’t break away, doesn’t leave them behind.

The creature is getting closer. Jemma can feel the wind being churned by the leathery wings, can smell that putrid, rotted-corpse smell again. Jemma wills herself to go faster, to run, to go just a little further, one foot steadily in front of the other, to not fall, not stumble, to not look back.

The thing’s wings graze the top of Jemma’s head as it comes in close enough to grab the back of Daisy’s uniform with its clawed feet. Daisy is yanked backward and off her feet and she cries out, a desperate and somehow hopeless sound.

Jemma holds tightly to Daisy’s hand, like she might somehow stop the creature for pulling her away. She digs her heels but she can already feel her grip slipping, can feel Daisy slipping through her hands.

Trip jumps up, throwing his entire weight against Daisy’s body and taking the creature by surprise, sending the three of them crashing into the ground. The creature lets out a shriek of annoyance, the sound of a thousand nails on a chalkboard, and Jemma feels the sound echoing through her chest.

Jemma tries to help Daisy to her feet but the creature grabs her by the ankle, pulling Daisy off her feet and into the dirt once more. It yanks Daisy backward and when Trip and Jemma try to lunge forward to grab Daisy again, the creature shrieks, spreading its wings wide and knocking them both backward and off their feet.

As the creature yanks Daisy to it, Daisy pulls the flare out of her pocket, igniting it and shoving it into the creature’s face. The flare bursts to life and the creature snarls, stumbling backward, clawed hands moving up to cover its face. To shield Ward’s eyes.

Daisy stumbles backward, grabbing Jemma and yanking her to her feet. “Run, run, run now.”

Jemma doesn’t really need to be told twice and, apparently, neither does Trip. Though Jemma has doubts about their ability to outrun the creature, especially considering that luck hasn’t exactly been on their side yet.

All they can do is hope and…

And Jemma almost can’t believe her eyes when she sees headlights moving in their direction, cutting across the field. It’s a truck, old and rusty and dirty, but a truck that works and runs and hopefully has someone behind the wheel who will help them, who will save them.

They skid to a stop as the truck heads in their direction, the wheels ripping up grass and dirt as it jerks to a stop. The driver’s side door swings open and there’s May behind the wheel. She doesn’t exactly look pleased. “I told you to stay in the bus.”

“Can you yell at us later?” Daisy glances behind her. “That thing is after us.”

They don’t waste time getting into the front of the truck and oddly Jemma feels safe squeezed in between May and Daisy. May locks the doors behind them and Jemma doesn’t really have the heart to point out that that’s not going to help them much.

May slams her foot on the gas and the truck rockets forward and May turns them in a circle, pointing the truck back in the direction she had just come from.

“Where’s Coach Hill?” Trip asks, bracing himself against the side of the truck as it bumps and rocks across the field.

“Taking a truck back to the bus to get the others,” May says. “The ones who could follow directions.”

Jemma winces, swallowing. “Well…Bobbi and Hunter and Fitz and Elena and Mack are also-”

May sighs, shaking her head and turning the headlights on brighter. “I didn’t think my directions were unclear.”

“Well,” Daisy forces a laugh, “you know…teenagers.”

They come upon Elena, Mack and Fitz, who barely wait for the truck to slow before they’re hopping into the bed, relief on their faces.

And then they find Bobbi, alone, still staring in the direction of the sky, a confused expression on her face. She lets Mack and Elena pull her into the truck bed but doesn’t say anything.

Not that Jemma thinks there’s really anything to be said.

When the lights of the farmhouse come into view, Jemma slumps against Daisy in relief. There’s a voice in the back of her mind, a small reminder of what Raina said, a reminder that a locked farmhouse door isn’t going to keep that thing out any more than a bus or truck. But Jemma would much rather be holed up for the night inside a place with four solid walls than taking her chances out in the middle of a field.

May pulls up alongside the porch. “I’m going to help Maria with the others,” she says. “Go inside. And this time, stay there.”

Daisy nods, giving her a thumbs-up. “No problem there.”

Inside, there’s a man wearing an eyepatch and holding a shotgun, though he thankfully doesn’t seem surprised to see them. “Are there others?” He asks gruffly.

“Hopefully.” Trip answers for all of them.

The man nods before turning to leave the room. “I’ll go get you all some water.”

Bobbi sinks onto the couch and doesn’t seem to notice when Jemma sits beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “That thing took him. Just…took him.”

Jemma swallows, thinking about Daisy and how close…how the creature had tried…She pushes that thought aside and just gives Bobbi a hug instead. Jemma’s eyes find Daisy over Bobbi’s head and she hopes Daisy can read the guilty relief in her eyes.

Giving Bobbi a final squeeze, Jemma gets to her feet, following the man in the direction of the kitchen. There are glasses sitting on the counter but they have yet to be filled with water. Instead, the man is fiddling with the CB radio, trying to find voices in the static. The shotgun is leaning against the counter and Jemma can’t tell if the sight of it makes her feel better or worse.

“Do you have any tea?” Jemma asks and the man turns back to face her. “It might cheer us up a bit.”

“Do I look like the type of person who has tea?”

Jemma shrugs, offering him a hopeful smile. After a beat, the man sighs, shaking his head. “You’re welcome to look in the pantry,” he grumbles.

“Thank you.” Jemma moves to open the pantry door. “And thank you for helping us, mister…?”

“Fury,” is the only response that Jemma gets.

Jemma nods, though the man’s back is to her. She rummages through the assortment of cans and bags in the pantry, pushing goods aside in hopes of finding at least a few bags of tea. She’s actually shocked when she finds a half empty box of earl grey back in the corner, slightly dusty but hopefully still good.

There’s no kettle, so Jemma has to settle for using a pot, which Fury points out with a gesture toward another cabinet. Jemma sets the water to boil before looking at Fury once more. “You don’t seem…all that surprised to have us here or surprised that there’s a creature out there. I think most people would be skeptical.

“I’ve seen it before,” Fury replies without taking his attention away from the radio.

“Oh.”

She thinks that’s all she’ll get out of Fury but he surprises her by continuing. “Twenty-three years ago, that thing took my son. I promised I would be ready next time. That I would kill it.”

“Twenty-three years ago…” Jemma repeats quietly. “Raina was right.”

Fury lifts his eyebrows and Jemma adds, “We just have to wait until sunrise.”

But Fury shakes his head. “I don’t want to wait. I want to kill it.”

Jemma holds up her hands. “I don’t think you’ll have any arguments there.”

Fury grunts rather than formulate a reply, picking up the gun and leaving Jemma alone in the kitchen. She’s just turned back toward the pot of slowly boiling water when she hears footsteps again and knows without turning around that Daisy will be there behind her. The feeling of Daisy’s arms encircling her waist, pulling her close, only confirms it.

Jemma closes her eyes and leans back against Daisy and feels like her heart beat finally begins to slow down. “I’m glad you’re safe,” she says softly.

Daisy kisses her temple. “For now.”

Jemma opens her eyes, turning around so that she’s face to face with Daisy. “I don’t think I like this adventure anymore.”

Daisy scoffs, shaking her head. “Yeah, it kinda sucks, doesn’t it.” She kisses Jemma and Daisy’s touch makes her toes tingle and sends relief crashing like a wave through her and even though Jemma knows it’s a false sense of relief, she’s not about to argue. Instead of thinking about the creature and Hunter and Coulson and the others, Jemma just focuses on the feeling of Daisy’s hands against the side of her face, and the heat of Daisy’s body against her own.

They stay like that until the water starts to boil and Jemma reluctantly untangles herself from Daisy. There aren’t any mugs that she can find, so Jemma just pours the water into the cups that Fury had already set out, dropping the tea bags inside to steep.

Daisy shakes her head. “Why is this the most British thing you’ve ever done?”

Jemma holds up one of the glasses. “Keep calm and drink tea,” she mutters wryly.

Jemma gives one of the cups to Bobbi, who takes it without comment. Jemma sits down on the couch with Bobbi on one side and Daisy on the other and she tries not to think about the fact that they’re all sitting in silence, watching the door.

She’s not sure if they’re waiting for May and Hill to come through the door or something else.

She doesn’t want clarification.

Instead, they just sit there. And wait.

 

* * *

 

It takes nearly two hours for Trip to finally say what they’ve all been thinking. “They’re not back yet. Something is wrong.”

“They’ll be back,” Fitz says, even though there’s very little conviction in his voice. “They’re just…”

“Lost?” Elena scoffs. “We could have walked here in ten minutes from the bus.”

“We could go look for them.” Jemma doesn’t really support the words even as they come out of her mouth and it’s a relief when no one else gets up to take her up on her suggestion.

Instead, they just keep sitting there, holding the postures they’ve been in for nearly two hours.

Daisy looks at the time on her phone. There’s still no service but at least the device is still working and the picture on her lock screen, one of her and Jemma together at Christmas, almost makes Jemma smile. Like there’s a possibility that she’ll be able to be back there again, they’ll she’ll be that person smiling for the camera with her girlfriend and without a care in the world.

“It’s still a long way to sunrise.” Daisy sighs, pocketing the phone again.

“We don’t need to go anywhere,” Trip says firmly, using the voice he uses whenever he has to give the team the plays or cheer them up when they’re behind on points. “We stay here. Like May said.”

Jemma nods, but that feeling is back. The feeling of being watched, of feeling the creature’s eyes on her again. The hair on the back of her neck stands up and her mouth goes dry. It isn’t until Daisy looks up, staring at the ceiling overhead, that Jemma realizes the cause of the goosebumps spreading across her arms.

Footsteps. From upstairs.

Everyone is in the living room, including Fury, who gets slowly to his feet, picking up the shotgun.

“It’s inside,” Fitz says.

To punctuate his words, something comes bouncing down the stairs, each solid whack of object on wood making Jemma tense. The object comes rolling into the living room, bumping against the leg of the coffee table and coming to a stop.

A baseball. Jemma wonders if it used to belong to Fury’s son.

Fury gets to his feet, picking up the baseball. His expression clouds over, his eyes burning. “Motherfucker.” He drops the ball, barely casting a glance over his shoulder as he says, “Stay here.”

They can’t protest, can’t argue against the common sense of this decision, before Fury is bounding up the stairs, shouting for the creature waiting up there.

Something crashes to the floor overhead and Daisy gets to her feet, staring toward the staircase. Jemma stands as well, because it seems like a better idea than sitting there, waiting. She reaches for Daisy’s hand, partly to keep her from moving toward the stairs, and partly to reassure herself.

The shotgun goes off, the bang seeming to vibrate through the entire house and Jemma jumps.

“He got it,” Mack says, though there’s no sense of relief or victory in his tone. Just a wish, spoken but not entirely believed.

Everything upstairs is silent and still. Like the entire house is holding its breath the way that Jemma currently is.

And then, the sound again: something heavy and wet rolling down the stairs.

This time, it isn’t a baseball.

Jemma gasps, covering her mouth with her hand and quickly turning her head away. Daisy is tugging her backward, reaching for Bobbi to pull her up to her feet as well. “Hurry. Hurry. The kitchen.”

The kitchen doesn’t have doors but it seems to make Trip and Mack feel better to drag the kitchen table over to the doorway, flipping it on its end and propping it against the doorway. It’s not going to keep the creature out but it offers some semblance of protection, however false.

Daisy starts pulling open the cabinets, throwing out iron skillets and pots and then yanking open drawers, dumping out the contents. Jemma grabs a pot and a meat tenderizer, failing to swallow the laughter that starts bubbling in her throat. No one pays her any attention or tells her to hush, even when the laughter dies away and leaves tears behind in her eyes.

“There’s a window here,” Bobbi says, pulling up the blinds. “We could probably fit.”

The window groans as Bobbi forces it open and she pulls a chair over. No one hurries over and Jemma knows what they’re thinking, how they feel: reluctant to abandon the perceived safety of the house even though it’s no safer than anywhere else.

“Hurry up!” Bobbi shouts. “Do you really want to be trapped in a kitchen with that thing, holding onto a frying pan!”

That seems to be enough to convince them to jump into action. Bobbi climbs out the window, dropping to the ground below. Fitz follows and then Jemma with Daisy right behind her. Outside, Jemma feels immediately exposed and the air is still, like it’s waiting too.

The creature is on the roof, watching them.

It grins, like they’ve somehow done exactly what it wanted them to do.

“We split up,” Trip says quietly, eyeing the creature. “I can’t get us all.”

“Are you sure about that?” Jemma mumbles. “It’s done pretty well so far.”

Once the creature’s wings unfurl, there’s no more time for discussion. There’s just unconscious action, the primal instinct of prey to run from the predator stalking it.

Jemma doesn’t bother to see the direction they others take off in. She just follows Daisy, dropping the useless pot in her hand in order to reach for Daisy’s hand instead. They run around the side of the house, past a rusted tractor and toward the rippling fields of golden wheat. The stalks smack against Jemma’s face, leaving her skin stinging and itchy, though that’s the least of her problems at the moment.

Especially because the wheat is moving and snapping behind them, a sign that they’re being followed. Hunted.

They change direction, cutting a new path to the right, though Jemma thinks it doesn’t matter which way they go, what direction they run in. The snapping, shaking of the wheat will give them away.

And the thing can smell them.

Daisy seems to realize this too, because she suddenly pulls them both to a stop, pulling her hand away from Jemma’s. “It doesn’t want you. We already know that.”

“Daisy-”

Daisy takes Jemma’s face in her hands, kissing her soundly, quickly. “It’s after me.”

Jemma makes a grab for Daisy but she’s too slow and Daisy is just out of reach. “Daisy! Don’t!”

Her words fall on deaf ears. Not that this is something that comes as a big surprise to Jemma, considering that she’s been dating Daisy for nearly four years and is used to her advice and warnings being ignored when Daisy Johnson decides to do things the Daisy Johnson way.

Usually that involves staying up until two in the morning doing homework or missing cheer practice to go to Taco Bell with Elena and Piper.

Not running off into the middle of the night with a bloodthirsty, demonic hell creature chasing after her.

Daisy is gone, swallowed by the endless rows and rows of wheat. Jemma can hear her moving, running, cutting a clear path through the fields.

And she can hear the creature too.

The thing goes by her inhumanly quick, not bothering to even cast a glance in Jemma’s direction. Daisy was right: the creature is after her.

Jemma tightens her grip on the meat tenderizer still in her hand, and goes after the creature. After all, someone has to help Daisy realize that she’s being a complete and total idiot.

The sound of Daisy’s scream only makes Jemma run faster, pushing stalks out of her way, ignoring the burning in her lungs and the panic in her heart.

The stalks are flattened and broken and Jemma can see the creature there in the midst of the broken wheat, its back to her, wings folded and tucked away. It’s smelling. Jemma can hear the sound of it, the deep, blissful sniffing. It leans closer to Daisy and Daisy lets out another scream as the creature drags its tongue across her neck and up to her cheek.

Jemma lifts the meat tenderizer over her head and brings it down onto the creature’s skull as hard as she can. The sound is like an egg cracking open, a stump splitting, somehow hollow and liquid at the same time.

The creature shrieks and Jemma nearly drops the weapon to cover her ears with her hands. But she just yanks the tenderizer free, holding it at the ready once more. The thing lifts its hands up to its skull, split open and seemingly hollow inside, pressing the sides together like it hopes to somehow heal itself.

The smell is worse than ever, decay and must and rotting flesh seeming to pour out of the crack in the thing’s head.

Daisy draws her legs back and kicks the creature in the knees, catching it by surprise and dropping it back to the ground. Jemma hits it with the tenderizer again, finishing the job and causing one half of the skull to split free and drop to the ground with a wet thud.

One eye looks at Jemma, seeming to glare at her from among the broken stalks of wheat.

With a garbled, final shriek, the creature snaps its wings open, knocking Jemma to the ground. It takes off, flapping desperately, its body unsteady and path wobbly as it climbs higher into the sky.

Daisy walks over, kicking the still blinking eye and the half of the skull out of the way as hard as she can. She holds out a hand, pulling Jemma to her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Am _I_ okay?” Jemma repeats. “I’m not the one who just got licked by that thing.”

Daisy grimaces, wiping at her face and neck with her hand. “Yeah, let’s agree to never talk about that to anyone else. I need like fifty showers now.”

Jemma shakes her head, pulling her hand away to give Daisy a shove. “You idiot. You could have died! Why do you always have to be so stubborn!”

Daisy gives her a sheepishly apologetic smile. “That’s what I have you for.”

Jemma rolls her eyes. “To save your life? Literally.”

“Yes.” Daisy kisses Jemma’s forehead and Jemma feels some of her anger and fear fade away. She suddenly feels so very, very tired.

Jemma leans against Daisy, letting Daisy support her. “Is it dead?”

“Probably not,” Daisy says truthfully.

Jemma sighs. “Maybe it’s at least gone.”

Neither of them say anything, unwilling to give voice to the fact that their classmates are still out there and just because the creature has given up on them temporarily doesn’t mean everyone else is safe.

“What do we do now?” Jemma asks instead.

Daisy can only shrug. “Wait until sunrise.”

 

* * *

 

They decide to stay in the field for lack of anywhere better or safer to go. At least here they can hear anything approaching and have a view of the sky above. But there’s nothing to see and no one else in the field with them. Everything is silent and still, the only thing overhead the twinkling of hundreds of indifferent stars.

As the sky starts to lighten, they get to their feet, heading back out of the field in the direction they came. It’s easier to follow the path created by the creature and two teenagers fleeing for their lives and Jemma is relieved to be out of the fields.

They head back to the bus and Jemma focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, dragging her exhausted body closer to whatever is waiting for them on the side of the road. She focuses on Daisy’s hand in hers. She focuses on listening for the sound of wings overhead.

But there’s nothing. Nothing flying down to grab them. Nothing waiting until the moment when their guard is down.

And then the bus comes into view and Jemma feels tears prick her eyes when she sees May standing there, waiting outside. The bus is seemingly still in one piece, aside from the tear on the roof, and May almost looks happy to see them.

May shakes her head. “I told you to wait in the house.”

Daisy shrugs. “You know how I feel about following directions, coach.”

Jemma blinks her tears away, smiling at May. “Where is Coach Hill? And the others?”

“Most people are still on the bus,” May says. “Maria decided to take the truck and go for help instead. She should be back soon.” May glances toward the sky. “It’s almost morning.”

Jemma doesn’t think she’s ever been happier to hear those words.

Jemma follows Daisy on the bus, letting her eyes take in the face her terrified, exhausted classmates. Almost everyone has made it back. She can see Fitz and Mack crammed into a seat together and Bobbi sitting with Raina and Elena. Lincoln is missing and so is Davis, and Hunter of course, and no one is really saying anything.

Raina looks at Daisy and raises her eyebrows. “You made it.”

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” But Daisy smiles at her and Raina smiles back.

Daisy sits down, leaning against the window and Jemma slides into the seat beside her, resting her head against Daisy’s shoulder. “Thank god the football season is over,” she mumbles. “I’m not sure I have it in me to go to another away game.”

Daisy puts an arm around Jemma. “I think we’d probably be okay,” she says. “At least for the next twenty-three years.”

 


End file.
